If and Why
by HelloMoscow
Summary: Teddy's falling to pieces as his world starts to crumble. With no one to turn to besides his old friends, can he find the strength to stand? Can he find the will to try? A friendship story...
1. Sitting in a Tree

**A/N**: Just an idea I had after viewing the movie. Teddy's falling to pieces as his world starts to crumble. With no one to turn to besides his old friends can he find the strength to stand? Can he find the will to try? Will eventually feature all four boys, but if you're looking for Mary-Sue romances you're reading the wrong story :). This is purely about friendship.

**Disclaimer**: I own neither the novella _The Body _nor the film _Stand By Me_. No copywrite infringement is intended.

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It was raining.

Whether from the September's skies or from his shimmering hazel eyes it neither mattered nor changed anything about who he was, who he'd been, and who he was slowly starting to become.

Once, three years ago, someone had called his father a 'loony' and he'd cried, cried, cried not because he was angry at the supposed lack of truth, but because it _was_ the truth, and he was in denial.

He wasn't the smartest guy in the world. Okay. Fine. He accepted that, lived with that, even used it to his advantage a time or two.

But he wasn't stupid.

And as he sat alone in the tree house on these last, dying days of summer Teddy Duchamp mindlessly shuffled a deck of cards someone, whether it had been Vern or the other guys he didn't know, had left. There were a lot of other guys, now. Once it had just been the four of them, but Chris and Gordie had gone on to bigger and better things and then it was only Vern.

Vern, however loyal he may be, was a complete and utter idiot. They were the ringleaders of a group of young pussies that liked to think they were all that and a bottle of booze when in reality they were nothing.

And were always gonna be nothing 'til the day they died.

But still. It was raining.

He hadn't slept at all the night before. His mother had recently found herself boyfriend number six hundred and thirty two and not only was this Jimmy-guy world's biggest slob, he was also world's biggest jerk. Right away he'd forbidden Teddy's mom and her teenage son to visit the man who'd _stormed the beach at Normandy_ and while his mother may have been okay with this new rule, it was slowly destroying Teddy.

His hand found its way to his bad ear, fingering the hearing aide and fighting back tears as he glared at the door. Once, Vern had knocked their secret knock and told them of a body. Once, they'd actually gone to find this body. Once, the four of them had learned a hell of a lot about, well, just about everything.

But that was once, and this was most definitely now.

The nightmares had been terrorizing him since that day he'd nearly been killed by his father, and though he told no one of their existence he was haunted by them just by night, but by day, too.

They drove him crazy; made him want to go nuts and be _insane_ just like his loony-

-No. _No, Duchamp. He ain't loony. HE AIN'T!_

And then the tears were rolling down his face in waterfalls and he couldn't stop them because slowly but surely they were stopping _him_. His shoulders shook and his he drew his knees up to his chest, hugging them fiercely, protectively.

Nobody loved him.

Well, okay, maybe his mother but she loved Jimmy, too, loved that foul, pussy, wet-end man and didn't _get_ that it was killing her son, _killing_ Teddy because without that link to his father and to his past and to his fears he was _nothing_.

Chris and Gordie didn't care. Hell, he barely even waved in the halls to them anymore. They didn't know him; they didn't remember him. He was just _there_. Like a frickin' rock or-or, well, like somethin' that didn't matter, anyway. Vern was just a tagalong, always had been and probably always would be.

And so Teddy sat. Alone. Forgotten.

And then the door opened.

Teddy didn't hear it at first because, well, because he was just _busy_, that's all, busy thinking 'bout stuff. But when he did finally look up (the tears fresh on his scrubby cheeks and glasses wet and foggy) he was shocked to see _Chris_ of all people standing there.

Teddy gulped back a sob and tried to scoot away—why, he wasn't sure. The expression on Chris's face was one of shock, which Teddy figured was mirroring his own rather remarkably. But then his old friend did something so _Chris_ Teddy knew he should have expected it right from the get-go.

Chris Chambers: resident comforter, care giver, peace-maker extraordinaire. He squatted down to Teddy's level, frowned, placed a hand on each of his old friend's shoulders and looked into his eyes.

"Teddy?" he said, and it wasn't really a question as much as it was a statement of acute surprise. "You okay, man?"

Teddy tried to nod but suddenly he couldn't do anything but sob and he hunkered down forward so that he was in a sort of misshaped ball. His hands went to cover his ears and as they did so he felt…_it_…His left ear…Or what was left of it…

_Strong hands gripped him savagely and he was being dragged, dragged, dragged to the burning stove and a voice whispered words he couldn't quite hear as the side of his head was pushed down…_

_Down…_

_Down…_

"STOP!" Teddy shouted wildly, pressing on his temples to make the memory disappear and as he did so the tears came faster, harder, as though they had a purpose now, a destination…

"Teddy?" Chris was talking at him, gripping his arms as though to snap him out of it. When that plan apparently failed he sat down next to the teenaged boy and pulled him into a hug, letting Teddy cry, cry, _cry_ into his shoulder.

And as Teddy let his emotions overcome him for the first time in months he thought that maybe, _maybe_, he wasn't so alone after all.

Outside, the rain fell harder.

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**To Be Continued**

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_Please review!_


	2. Man of the House

**A/N**: Thanks for the reviews! Sorry for the, you know, wait...It won't happen again ;).

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

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Their house was small, but it was pretty. His mother hadn't gotten a whole lot out of life, but what she had gotten had been turned from nothing special, to a work of genuine beauty. She had that touch, that way with the ugly.

Teddy used to think that she could turn anything good.

But she couldn't.

Now, he walked past green shrubs and pink, yellow, and red flowers just peaking up from the carefully groomed dirt. The pathway leading to the front porch was made of small stones that had been carefully set in an almost strategic pattern. Trees dotted the large yard, and a tire swing hung from a tired branch.

The last time someone had swung from it was when Teddy had been nine and his father had been in a good mood. Now it was old and forgotten.

Teddy made his way up to the front door, not bothering to knock against the white wood and instead simply turning the knob and ambling inside. He paused at the doorway, listening closely for any sound. His hearing was very poor, and, according to the doctors, was going to get worse over time, but he picked up on the sounds coming from the kitchen.

Swallowing a bit nervously, he slipped off his Keds, silently closed the front door, and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Quietly he walked through the narrow hallways of the little house until he stood outside of the kitchen.

His mother was standing in front of the stove, but her back was to the cooking pot as she faced her currant boyfriend. His name was Tom, and he was a giant of a man. His mother, on the other hand, was small and petite, a faded beauty who meekly obeyed the men around her. Teddy clenched his fists at the site of the man before her.

"…What the hell's a man gotta do 'round here to himself a decent meal, woman! What-you think I appreciate comin' home for dinner to have the same damn meal I had the night before?"

"No, Tom, of course not-,"

"-DAMN RIGHT I DON'T!" Tom banged the top of the old wooden table for emphasis and Teddy and his mother both jumped in surprise. Tom wiped his mouth on the back of his hand as he swiped it across his face. "Dammit, Ellie," he swore lowly, reminiscent of a disappointed father scolding a disobedient child.

"What-what would _you_ like to have for dinner, Tom?" Teddy's mother asked timidly. Tom snorted and shook his head as if amazed at her stupidity.

"You're just a damn idiot, aren't you?" he said cruelly. Teddy bristled, a light jumping to his dark eyes and a shock of anger zapping through him suddenly.

"Hey!" he shouted out defiantly. "Don't call her an idiot!"

Tom and Ellie quickly spun around to face the teenager, scorn and alarm showing on their faces respectively. "Where the hell you been, boy?" Tom demanded.

Teddy's fists hung stiffly at his sides. "_Out_," he answered.

Tom didn't like his tone, apparently, and said as much. And then he marched over and grabbed one of Teddy's upper-arms tightly, yanking him against the wall. Heart palpitating in fear, Teddy managed to continue glaring at him, kicking out savagely. His mother moved into action, hurrying from her spot in the kitchen to defend her only child.

"Tom!" she shrieked pleadingly. "Tom—don't!"

Ellie went to him, hand going to his shoulder to try and calm him, but achieving the opposite effect instead. "Don't you DARE!" Tom roared, violently shoving the woman away as he slammed Teddy against the wall. "Don't you DARE TELL ME WHAT TO DO!"

Ellie began to cry. Teddy watched her in horror, head throbbing from when it had connected sharply with the plaster and upper-arm numb from Tom's clenched hand. He wanted badly to murder the man, but he knew that would hurt his mother so he managed to refrain.

For her sake.

Tom stared at Teddy's mother in disgust, before cursing angrily and releasing Teddy brutally by shoving him again towards the wall. He stomped past Ellie, grabbing something of his from the front closet, and then left the house, slamming the white wooden door so hard behind him, the little house shook.

Teddy blinked, collecting himself and flexing his numb arm gingerly. Rubbing at the back of his head (and finding a rather substantial bump), he went to his mother. She looked at him and shook her head, too overcome with tears to say anything.

Wrapping his arms around her comfortingly, he held her as she wept.

Later, maybe, he, too, would cry.

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At school, Teddy was pretty popular. He usually had a girlfriend, but currently he was single and not really into looking. He sat and hung out with a bunch of the mindless athlete types—jocks, he supposed they were called—but he wasn't big into sports, himself. He wasn't really big into anything, to be honest.

Except maybe war.

And chess. He was really great at chess.

Someone had once introduced the game to him, and when Teddy had beaten him almost effortlessly he'd fallen in love with it. He really didn't have anyone to play it with, though (since Vern couldn't even comprehend the meaning of the word _strategy_ and none of the other guys could even spell _chess_), so he mostly played himself. And that wasn't much of a game as he could predict his own moves.

Academically he was poor, but he wasn't sure if the problem was that he was just stupid, or if he just couldn't see things right. His eyesight was awful, like his hearing. Two senses down, three to go, right?

He'd never gotten the hang of reading, either. When the other kids would read something like "the owl saw a bird", Teddy would instead read it as, "the low was a brid", which was completely wrong, as the teachers would say.

Maybe it was completely wrong. A lot of things were completely wrong.

That was just life.

And so that day when he found himself suddenly at the mercy of Chris Chambers, he figured he'd reached rock bottom.

But he was, predictably, completely wrong.

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**To Be Continued**

_Please review!_


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